


Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

by keelywolfe



Series: by any other name [28]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst, Implied/Referenced Terrorism, M/M, Prejudice Against Monsters (Undertale), Spicyhoney - Freeform, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underswap Papyrus (Undertale), Undertale Monsters on the Surface, papcest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-11 02:11:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16466714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keelywolfe/pseuds/keelywolfe
Summary: Good news does not come in late night phone calls, especially after midnight.





	Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> A few people have asked me exactly what Edge does at the Embassy. The answer is 'a lot', but maybe this will give a little insight.

* * *

Their room was not silent at night. Without some kind of white noise breaking through the quiet, Stretch slept restlessly which was an excellent way to ensure that Edge also slept restlessly. A fan seemed the easiest way to accomplish it, the gentle whir as soothing to Stretch as a lullaby, and Edge had grown so accustomed to it that he had a small portable one to take with him whenever he traveled with their diplomats.

In their bed, Edge was buried beneath the blankets, sleeping on his back with Stretch curled up next to him, one leg slung over both of Edge’s and the other poking out from beneath the covers, his bony toes twitching vaguely in the chill. 

The shrill sound of the cell phone broke through the peacefulness. Edge’s emergency ringtone, chosen to waken him from even the soundest sleep. It hadn’t finished the first ring before he was sitting up, easing Stretch off of him to snatch up his phone. 

He shook off any lingering sleep in an instant. “What is it?” He listened for a long moment. "I'll be right there." He hung up without saying goodbye, slipping out of bed and dressing methodically. In his thoughts he was already cataloging what needed to be done, what information was needed, who else needed to be contacted. The moment he stepped out of the closet a voice cut through the darkness and halted him.

"what's wrong?" Far too awake for Edge to hope he'd simply roll back over and go back to sleep.

"Nothing," he said, shortly. His attention was more on tying his boots and planning. Later, he would blame his distraction for not giving the question a better considered answer. 

"seriously?” Stretch sighed out and it gave him a more serious pause. It was too dark for Edge to see his face, but it took little imagination to picture the disappointment that was surely on it. “that’s what you’re going with? your ‘oh shit’ ringtone goes off at fuck o’clock in the morning and you’re going with nothing? yeah, you're a terrible liar, you always have been. want a few minutes to come up with a story you could sell to netflix or do you just want go with the truth this time?”

“There’s nothing you can do,” Edge tried, which was true enough, although not what Stretch was asking. There wasn’t time for this.

“is someone hurt?” The fan was still whirring, burying nuances beneath the lull of white noise. It didn’t disguise the calmness in Stretch’s voice. The expectation of whatever terrible thing that he thought he was about to hear. Edge couldn’t keep this from him.

"Someone…no," he hesitated, trying to think of a way to better way to phrase it, a way to soften the blow. But no part of his life had ever taught him a gentle way to give ugly information. The best he could do was honesty. "The Beanery is on fire."

"...the fuck?" Stretch sat straight up, his voice cracking, "on fire?"

"They suspect arson. I need to get down there, Antwan is already on his way--"

The bed creaked, and he could hear blankets being flung aside. "i'm coming with you."

"You are doing no such thing," Edge told him, sliding his arms into a jacket. 

"excuse me?" 

Edge stilled and closed his sockets. That wintry tone cut through the detachment of his focus, bringing him up short. A visceral reminder that he was no longer the Captain in the Snowdin chapter of the Royal Guard to give orders and expect them to be obeyed. 

The situation was pushing him blindly back into old habits, because he wanted Stretch nowhere near the Beanery. It was still on fire, there could be any number of traps, the perpetrators could still be there, waiting for Monsters to make an appearance. There were a dozen ways, two dozen, more, that this could end, and Edge was a strategist, that was his talent, his gift if one could call it that, one that Asgore used ruthlessly be it in negotiations or to assist with court cases. Standing here with his jacket half off, his feet cold against the floor, he was swallowed in the possibilities, he could picture all of the ways this night could go and so many ended in dust.

He took a moment, mentally choosing and discarding arguments. Stretch was not an emergency responder in any capacity, he didn’t even officially work for the embassy. There was no logical reason for him to come along, only emotional ones, and going on blind emotion was a quick walk down an exceeding short path.

Every argument he could think of remained unspoken. None of them were going to work and that left him with a last option, simply refusing to take him. That led to a scenario that Edge didn’t like to consider; Stretch making his own way down where Edge couldn’t see him.

_No._

Stretch was an adult and his husband. He could make his own choices and Edge had to allow that whether or not he agreed with them.

But it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make a strategy of his own.

Antwan would already be in his car on his way; they needed information to counter any anti-monster sentiment that come up from this and it would, viciously. It always did. Time was ticking away but Edge moved to sit on the bed, taking one of Stretch’s hands in both of his own gloved ones. 

"You will stay right with me," Edge told him, making it clear that he would brook no arguments on this. He wasn’t a captain, no, only an old soldier who needed to keep the person he loved safe, and that was a role he’d never be able to shake away. "Unless I am under attack, you don't take two steps away from me, no matter what you see, is that clear?"

Stretch nodded immediately. "okay."

"Promise me," Edge insisted. 

He drew a little x over his chest with his free hand, "cross my soul."

It would have to be enough. "Let's go."

* * *

He could smell it first, acrid and heavy even though the car windows were closed, like a shadow of Underfell where smoke was always in the air, the taste of it coating everything, along with dust. Then over the crest of a hill were flashing lights shrouded in a smoky haze. He heard Stretch make a small noise next to him, but he couldn’t focus on that, not now. 

Red would be here somewhere, gathering information in ways that were probably better not asked about. It was doubtful that they’d see him and there would be a tersely worded report on his desk tomorrow morning, utterly humorless, lacking any identifiers. 

They had to park further away than he would have liked, in the back lot of a heath food store where the overhead lights were alarmingly dim. Edge battled every instinct he had to resist the urge to tell Stretch to walk behind him, shamefully relieved that he didn’t have to. Stretch had no training at all but his brother had and perhaps it was Blue who had taught him to keep two steps back and to the right, close enough to protect, far enough away not to interfere, and on Edge’s better side where a crack didn’t interfere with his vision. 

He had a fleeting, foolish wish that he could hold Stretch’s hand, hating the way he was trailing cautiously behind him. It brought back unpleasant memories of his brother at his heels, his HP invitingly low, enticing others to try for LV that wasn’t nearly as easy as they’d expected. 

He dismissed it immediately. Stretch had wanted to come; he would have to deal with his distress on his own, Edge couldn’t spare any focus on coddling him.

Edge didn’t linger, walked briskly through the various emergency vehicles with the same confidence that had carried him through the streets of Underfell. There were police officers and firefighters milling around, but the badge pinned to his coat that declared him a Representative of the Embassy kept them from questioning him. Antwan had told him over the phone they were expected, though he’d also warned him, unnecessarily, to be cautious and to keep back as much as possible to avoid even the perception of interference. 

The blaze was mostly out, the building nearly unrecognizable. In the place of an inviting coffee shop was only the mangled remnants of a building frame that still glowed with charred embers, the shrubs at the front of the building little more than blackened twigs. 

A faint sound came from his right and Edge dared a look to see tears streaming down Stretch’s face. He wondered if Stretch was remembering, as he was, sitting at their table not so very long ago while all the baristas gifted them with the picture that was currently hanging in their living room. The anguish on his husband’s face pierced through his impassiveness, scraping aside the cool detachment of his focus. 

Red was going to rake him over the fucking coals, but Edge took Stretch’s hand in his own, squeezing gently, briefly, before letting him go. He didn’t dare any more than that, he needed his hands free. Just in case. 

He scanned the area, taking in details that he’d note later in his report, looking for anyone out of place, anyone watching the fire with too much interest. There was nothing obviously suspicious, not yet. Ebott officers were speaking to the crowd of Humans watching the firefighters work and Edge made a mental note to get ahold of any of their findings. If they were reluctant, well, Edge could be very persuasive when it was required. 

Antwan wasn’t in sight but that wasn’t unexpected; as a Human he was able to be a little more invasive of the officer’s space. As a black man, Antwan understood the need for caution as well as any Monster and often better. This was his world and he understood all too well the way it worked. 

Near a collection of police cars, he caught sight of Debbie standing alone, colored by the flashing lights and looking small and strange in an oversized winter coat. The sight made his soul lurch painfully, a reaction Edge suppressed viciously. He hardly recognized the woman, accustomed to seeing her in tidy uniform or once, at the wedding, finely dressed. 

_(She’d danced with Stretch, laughing, she’d been kind to him, always, so very kind--)_

Not in ragged sweatpants, her hair gathered hastily in a straggling ponytail. Not looking tired and perhaps sooty, older than she had ever seemed before. 

He could tell the moment Stretch spotted her, too. He swayed next to him, taking a half-step forward and Edge held out an arm, holding him back. 

“Don’t,” Edge warned. People under duress could do strange, terrible things. He didn’t want to believe Debbie would attempt to hurt either of them. He couldn’t allow himself to believe she never would.

He walked towards her, slower than he’d approached the parking lot, wary. Stretch was still mostly at his heels but his caution was waning as his concern rose. 

"debbie!” Stretch called out when they were less than twenty feet away, the name bursting from him. Frustrating, but he could be forgiven for it, that single, raw word gave Edge clarity on his crumbling state of mind. 

The human looked towards them, visibly startled and then instantly distraught. 

"Stretch?" she called out and stumbled over to them. As she came closer, Edge could see her face was red and tearstained, and she reached out to take Stretch’s hands in her own, oblivious to the way Edge stiffened, magic flaring hotly in his fingers, unseen in his dark gloves. "Oh, sweetheart, you shouldn't be here! They think it was those anti-monster fanatics and the last thing I want is for you to get hurt over this!”

"i know," Stretch whispered. A wash of fresh tears streamed down his cheekbones. "oh, debbie, i'm so sorry.”

She let out a watery sounding sigh, pulling him into a careful hug. "I knew you would be, hun, and I appreciate the sentiment, but don't you go blaming yourself for this, all right? It wasn't your fault or the fault of any Monsters." Her smile was grim, and one Edge had seen before, on Monsters in Underfell who’d lost their homes, who’d gathered what remained of their already meager possessions and moved on. "And if those bastards think they are going to keep me down, they are very mistaken.”

She drew back and offered Stretch a kleenex, a bit rumpled but clean. He took it, wiping his face. “it’s not fair.”

"No one was hurt, that’s what’s important," she said quietly. "And this was just a building. I have insurance and with a little time, we're going to reopen the best damn coffee shop in Ebott."

"Speaking as a representative of the Embassy, we'd like to help in any way we can," Edge said, raising his voice to be heard in case anyone was listening. It was important to impress upon any eavesdroppers that she had allies, that the Monster community wasn’t about to abandon her.

She reached over and patted his cheekbone, and she would have never noticed the way he stiffened, struggling not to draw away. she would have no idea what the sharp flare of his eye lights meant, his vision washing over with crimson. Stretch would, but he said nothing, no flickering hint of disapproval. 

"I know, sweetie, and I appreciate it,” Debbie told him. “I'll let you know, all right?" Her smile went wobbly. “Just don’t let this keep you out of my new shop? Please?”

“not a chance,” Stretch pulled her back into a hug and she quivered a little, pressing her face into his sweatshirt, her shoulders shaking. She was so tiny in comparison to Stretch, barely up to the middle of his rib cage. He knew Stretch’s HP but just now, she seemed like the fragile one, leaning her all her light weight against him and taking his support. 

Around them, he could see others starting to approach them. Not Humans, other Monsters were showing up, pouring out of vehicles and heedless of the late hour. One by one they were going up to Debbie and hugging her, sharing their tears as they looked over to the remnants of the coffee shop. Of their sanctuary. 

Foolish sentiment, all it was doing was gathering all of them in one place as an easy target. Edge stepped back, away from the crowd, and he was distantly surprised that Stretch obediently followed him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been, Stretch had promised, and he stayed within arm’s reach even as Edge drew away. 

Stretch was watching the crowd of Monsters around Debbie. He wouldn’t have seen the flash of crimson that Edge did, out of the corner of his eye, an instant of redness coming from the shadows, the gleam was both familiar and foreboding.

Someone was going to pay for this and the less Edge knew about that, the better. 

-finis


End file.
